Shattered Memories, Shattered Minds
by IndieWrites
Summary: The day Voldemor was defeated was the day the world forgot Harry Potter. All except for one man - Draco Malfoy. Now, ten years later, Draco lives a lie. And he's tired of it. Desperate dreams drive him to find out what really happened that night. DM/HP
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I wish... I wish with all my might, to own Draco and his hair of light *opens eyes* No? Well then, He and Harry and all their worlds belong to J.K. Rowling. I do own this plot, though.

**Pairing(s):** Slight Draco/Ginny (not graphic); Ron/Hermione; Draco/Harry

**Rating:** M (or on other sites NC-17) for violence, language and sexual situations. This story will have slash. Don't like it.. well I'm not forcing you to read it.

**Authors Notes:** Back with another story. I love Snarry, and then discovered Drarry. And my brain broke. I love Draco, especially after the HBP. The emotion and intensity his character developed was breathtaking. I stand by this pairing for many of the same reasons I like Snarry. There is a fire and passion that is palatable, which is not something you see between Harry and Ginny.

I'm still working on, and will continue to work on _Waking Up. _However, this particular story grabbed a hold of me and hasn't let go since-literally. I'm freaken dreaming about it. I am pretty excited to be writing this one, and hope it delivers well. Yes, there is slash, and heartbreak and misunderstandings It will have angst (because it's what I write) and hopefully some fluff and some humor. There may be character death...depends on my muses. But it will work out in the end. Comments are welcome, and questions too, although if they are plot related, I won't post spoilers. Anyway.. enjoy.

**Summary:** The day Voldermor was destroyed was the day the wizarding world forgot about their savor-entirely. All except for one man, who holds a secret, and a broken heart. Ten years have passed since then, and Draco Malfoy lives a life of peace and prosperity. At least when he's awake. His dreams are another matter. Nights filled with visions of green eyes brings him to desperation. He knows Harry's still out there. And he is bent on finding him. The only problem is-he's the only one who remembers.

**

* * *

**

**Shattered Memories, Shattered Minds**

Prologue

_I have seen him so many times in my mind. His wind tousled dark hair; his emerald eyes flashing with righteous indignation made brighter against the backdrop of a burning Hogwarts. His lithe body held taunt, posed with ready awareness. _

_The way his magic swirled, licking in tangible flames engulfing both friends and foes alike. His wand was raised, held with steady bloody fingers. He looked both strong and vulnerable at the same time. A boy held in a man's body. A warrior with flaws. _

_With one swish of that wand, it was all over. Nearly a decade of struggle, fear and death, brought to a halt in a breathtaking moment filled with light and deafening silence. I closed my eyes for but a second, breathing a deep sigh of relief. _

_We were finally free._

_And then… the most horrific sound filled the air. _

"_Harry! Oh Merlin! No! HARRY!" Hermione Granger, one of Harry's best friends, screamed out, ripping through the cheers of victory. The battlefield filled with silence at her screams, people stilled in their tracks. And just like that, our joy turned to sorrow, our peace tasted like ash in our mouths. Just like that, our hearts stuttered and stopped. _

_Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, had done the impossible. He had destroyed the Dark Lord by making the ultimate sacrifice- that of himself._


	2. Chapter 1 It's Not You, It's Him

Disclaimer: Still J.K. Rowling's. Plot mine, though.

A/N: I admit to being thoroughly addicted to this plotline. So it is quite possibly you will have daily updates. In fact, I'm already working on the next chapter. *Waits for fainting to ensue* That aside, I know Draco might seem OOC. But he is older, and people do change. Don't worry, we will see more of the prat side of him in coming chapters. And please don't rail at me for sticking him with Gin. It serves a purpose. And again, thank you very much for the Alerts and Review. They are always appreciated. Enjoy.

* * *

_**Chapter 1 It's not you… It's him**_

_Bright green eyes disappeared behind bruised eyelids, the purple standing in stark contract to his pale skin. Slowly his mouth opened and a single word floated upon the air._

"_Please."_

He sat up sharply, shoving a shaking hand roughly into his platinum locks. His bared chest glistened with a sheen of sweat, as his dark sheets slipped down to pool in his lap. A shuttering breath snaked past his lips and his closed his eyes for a moment, trying to still the tremors shaking his frame. Slowly, carefully, he stood, listening in the silence of his darkened bedroom. He could tell by the blackness permeating the sky that it was still well before dawn.

He was glad for that singular gift, as the dawn always brought realizations he would rather not think about. Yes, the dark suited his frame of mind right now, helping him understand his feelings, his ambitions, his _obsession_. Darkness had always been a friend of his, allowing him to move about in a world all his own. It had also been his worst enemy, leading him into traps and horrible misdeeds. He had much to repent for, much to right.

But for now, none of that mattered. Only a pair of gorgeous eyes and a sinking feeling of hopelessness. He strode over to his full length windows, standing unabashedly nude, his form gleaming in the waning moonlight. He pressed his forearm against the glass, relishing the cool sensations against his heated skin. Leaning his head against his arm, he sighed, allowing himself a moment of peace. The city lights shone bright against the inkiness of the sky, casting strange shadows all around. He was grateful once again for the foresight his Realtor had when suggesting this flat in London. Up 16 stories high, he had a magnificent view, and privacy.

The rustle of fabric and a sigh alerted him to the presence of his companion. Slim pale arms slipped around his waist, nimble fingers teased his abdominal muscles lightly. He felt a breath ghost over his neck and saw a flash of red hair out of the corner of his eye.

"Draco, love, come back to bed." Her soft voice broke the silence. He closed his eyes, hiding the pained look in them.

"Did I wake you?" he asked. Her nose nuzzled into the side of his neck. She pressed a kiss there and nodded.

"Yeah, a bit. It's lonely without you."

"Sorry," he mumbled. "What time is it anyway?"

"Around 3," she responded, trailing her hands up and down his chest. "Come on, come back to bed."

He shook his head. "In a bit. I need some air." He could feel her mouth turn into a pout as she dropped her arms.

"Fine," she said sullenly. He turned to her now, capturing her chin in his hand and laid a brief kiss on her forehead.

"I won't be long," he promised, stepping around her and grabbing his trousers, a shirt and his trainers. She said nothing as she watched him dress, his back muscles rippling in a way that would make the most harden old maid drool. He kissed her cheek softly, and was gone. Again. She knew he would not be back before dawn. Silently, she crept back into the huge bed, alone, and angry.

Draco stuffed his hands into his pockets once outside his building. The warming spring breezes whispered around him. He hated spring more than any other season. Hated, and loved it. The memories it brought, the feelings that bloomed in his soul; they were so much more palatable in the springtime. His street was silent, devoid of all life, and he was grateful for this. Looking once one way, and then the other, he took a deep breath and Disapparated.

The grass was wet with dew when he touched down in a small field just outside of Hogwarts. Tripping slightly, he righted himself quickly, chuckling softly at his own clumsiness. If only his friends and family could see him now. He had been born and bred to exude pose and grace. But in the early morning hours, with only himself for company, that mask fell away. With haunted grey eyes and a firm set mouth, he trudged a short way stopping before a large tree. Beneath the tree, a stone sat, small and unobtrusive. To a normal person-wizard and Muggle alike, it appeared to be nothing but a random rock.

To Draco, it was so much more. Silver and gold treads wove around the rock, spelling out a name. Not mindful of the wetness and chill, he sat down cross-legged before it. Shoving a hand through his already mussed hair he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his other hand.

"Sorry I'm late," he said softly, almost reverently. "I dreamt of you tonight, again. And Gin… well she didn't want to let me come here." He laughed, a harsh barking sound. "Not that she knows where here is, or that she even knows who you are. Nobody does."

Draco paused, folding his hands in his lap and stared at the rock. "Why is that, Harry? Why doesn't anyone remember you? What did you do?" His fingers clinched together, his knuckles turning white.

"Why me?" he whispered, a broken tone in his voice. "Why couldn't I forget with the rest of them? I want to, you know. Some days I fear I'll go mad with want. Wanting you, wanting to forget you. But I can't." His voice broke with a sob. "I can't, Harry." He buried his head in his hands, stifling the sobs that threatened to break free. He had held himself together thus far, he could continue to do so a little longer.

"Ginny's getting suspicious. Her family, your surrogate family, the people who loved you…they're pushing me. They want me to propose, I know it. And now, this the promotion…" he trailed off. "I feel like I'm cheating on her, and yet…how can I cheat with a memory?"

He climbed to his feet slowly, casting a Drying spell to pull the faint wetness from his pants. "That's all you are, Harry. A memory. A glorious, fiery, passionate memory. I've been living your life, the life you were meant to have. And I can't do it anymore. I want you back, however I can have you. And I'm going to find you, you hear me? I'm going to find you and bring you home." The silver and gold strains wavered for a moment, then settled, as if his vow had been accepted. He felt a comforting warmth settle in his chest.

Drawing himself up to stand straight, his trademark Malfoy smirk was firmly in place. "That's right, Potter. Your days of hiding are numbered. Because once I have you, I'm not letting you go this time. You're mine." Walking to stand beside the stone, he sank down with his back against to tree. Leaning his pale head back, he closed his eyes. For tonight, though, he could be content with this memorial stone, and his own memories.

Dawn's soft light pulled him from his light slumber. Standing, he stretched, winching at all the aches he had developed from his unconventional napping spot. Casting a quick Warming and Drying spell, he leaned down, trailing long fingers over the stone once more before turning and walking away. Ginny would be awake soon, and he hoped to at least apologize to her for his absence.

Unfortunately, an apology was not what was foremost in her mind when he arrived back at his flat. Quietly entering his flat, he saw her sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in front of her, and a furious look on her pretty face. Her eyes jumped to his as he toed off his shoes.

"You said you wouldn't be long. You promised, Draco." Her voice was tinged with anger and Draco tensed. This was not how he liked to spend his Saturday mornings. Especially after spending part of the night propped up against a tree. He wanted to do nothing more than crawl back into his perfect silk sheets and sleep the morning away.

Obviously, Ginny wasn't on board with that. So he shook his blond head and wandered over to the coffee pot. Grabbing a mug from the cupboard, he poured the rich liquid into the mug and took a fortifying drank. He mightn't like Muggles much, but coffee was one of their rather brilliant creations. With a deep sigh, he turned to face her.

"I'm sorry, Gin. I lost track of time." He knew it sounded lame, even if it was the truth. When he was at his _spot_, he really did lose all sense of time and space.

Ginny's eyes flashed with ire. "As you always say. Tell me, Draco, did _she_ forget to set _her _alarm so you could sneak back here before I got up? Who is she? A girl from the Ministry? Come on, tell me who your little bint is."

Draco fought to control his irritation. He knew she had every right to be suspicious. Hell he would be too, if it was her stepping out for hours on end, without explanation. And yet, her accusations angered him. "Damn it. We've been over this before, Gin. There's no one else. I just needed some time to think." He watched as she stood gracefully, her face closed off, her eyes shuttered.

"Well then this should make it easier for you. I'm going to the Burrow for a few days. Maybe by then you will have decided what you truly want. Me, or whoever it is that takes you away from me." Spinning on her heels, she stalked from the room, slamming the bedroom door closed in the process.

Draco stood there, a myriad of emotions swirling through him. He waited for the feelings of regret and guilt to come. Even a twinge of remorse would have been acceptable. As it was, a full twenty minutes after Ginny had vacated the flat, Draco still stood in that exact position, and felt…relief. White blazing relief. He knew then, without a shadow of a doubt, that would be the last time Ginny darkened his door in her current capacity. The days of lies and pretending were over.

And as the sun rose and the birth of a new day began, Draco for once felt he too was being reborn.

Nothing had ever felt as sweet.

He awoke several hours later, when the sun was high in the sky and the sheets were piled on the floor. Gracefully his body moved, stretching his muscles until he was comfortable moving from the bed. Sunlight streamed through his curtains and with a flick of his hand, were pulled back to allow the full brilliancy to shine in. Yawning, he grabbed a pair of black trousers and a white pullover and walked into his bathroom.

Standing in the shower, the water beating warmly against his skin, he thought of the vow he had made and how to go about executing it. Working for the Ministry had its perks to be sure, but he didn't think they would extend into this matter. That left only one person. With a smile, he strode from his shower, grabbed a towel and began to dress for the day.

* * *

Hermione Granger really was the brightest witch of her age. Draco reckoned she might have been the best witch of their generation, too. She was unsurpassed in research and one hell of an advocate. When she took on a cause, she kept with it, no matter the censor she might receive. And for that reason Draco had nothing but admiration for her. Strange, he supposed, given their tumultuous history.

But as it was, they had both grown up and left the past where it belonged. She had saved his arse a time or two anyway. And he had helped bring to justice the people who had attacked her family only four years after the war had ended. They had somehow formed a rather easy friendship. He was counting on that friendship now.

She looked lovely that day, sitting in the full sunlight at an outdoor café not too far from the newly refurbished Ollivandres'. They met there on occasion for lunch, or tea. He glanced over her form, wondering once again if Harry would have been in his seat had he been around. He shook his head, dislodging the wave of melancholy that threaten to drown him.

"Are you okay, Draco?" she asked softly, her voice rich with maturity. Her brown eyes held wariness and concern.

"I take it Gin's been to see Ron?" He watched as her cheeks turned rosy. She nodded, her formerly bushy curls now tamed into pretty little rings that bounced around her shoulders.

"She Flooed in about an hour after you called, storming about some two-bit hussy you've been stepping out with. Ron was furious at first, but I told him it would be bloody insane for you to do so. He seemed to calm down after that." She paused and leveled her gaze at him, searching. "It's not true, right?"

Draco shook his head. "No, I'm not seeing anyone else."

Hermione sat back with a sigh and a smile. "Good."

"But," Draco pushed on, " I won't be seeing her anymore either."

She seemed shocked for a moment. "Why? I thought you two were happy. I mean, Gin has been expecting a proposal any day now, and even your mother seems accepting of it."

Draco made an insensitive snort and sneered. "Of course she does. Pure-blood is pure-blood after all, even if it is poor."

"Draco!" Hermione exclaimed, her voice full of reproach. Draco had the graciousness to look chagrined, but ruined it with a shrug.

"You know it's true. It may have been a decade since the end of the war, but people are still set in their ways, my family included." He sounded so bitter, and Hermione placed a comforting hand on his. "Anyway, I know what Gin wanted, but I can't. And that's why I need your help."

She looked confused, and Draco couldn't blame her. He wondered offhandedly how much more so she would be once he made his request. She opened her mouth, but he held up his hand.

"The life I've been leading is a lie. All of our lives are. I'm not who I'm supposed to be. Ginny was never supposed to be my girlfriend. You and I… well maybe we would have worked out our differences, I really don't know." He ran a hand over his face. This was harder to explain than he thought. He sighed and began again.

"Something happened ten years ago, the night the Dark Lord was defeated. Something that changed this world into this alternate reality." He scowled and made a sweeping gesture with his hand. "This lie."

"What do you mean, Draco?" Hermione's voice was nothing but a whisper.

"I mean the memories we have are wrong. The history books are wrong. It's all wrong. Something tampered with our memories that night and erased the most important person of all."

"Who?"

"Harry Potter."


	3. Chapter 2 Not So Looney Luna

Disclaimer: Really? You think I own them? Wow... Hate to disappoint, but Draco in his deliciousness and Luna in her lovableness are still property of J.K. Rowling

A/N: Before anyone asks, the italics in the beginning are snatches of Draco's memories. They will come into play further down the line. Once again, please forgive any OCC-ness to Draco right now. You will see a bit of his normal sniping in this chapter, and much more in coming ones. Thanks once again to those who have reviewed and added this to their alerts. Feel free to drop me a line any time. I'm always glad to hear from my readers. (Oh and yeah... I agree about "ew Ginny and Draco." It is necessary to the plot however.) Enjoy.

* * *

_**Chapter 2 - Not So Looney Luna**_

_Sitting there, his hands clasped around his knees, and a smile that almost looked serene, most people would think he hadn't a care in the world. Most people didn't know him like I did._

"_I'm tired," he said softly, not bothering to look over as I sat down next to him._

"_I know."_

The silence that surrounded them was almost deafening. Hermione sat there, frozen, wide eyed. Then she shook her head, pity drenching her gaze.

"Oh Draco. Not this again," she said softly, aware of the looks now directed at them. Draco winched. He knew blurting it out like that might not have been the best move, but he was getting desperate, and couldn't bring himself to care. "Draco, we have been over this before. There is no one named Harry Potter that we know. You ranted about this back when school let out, remember?"

Draco said nothing, battling both embarrassment and frustration. How to convince her he wasn't completely bloody mental?

"Hermione, who was the Seeker for Gryffindor during our first year?" he asked, hoping to jog her memory a little. She thought for a moment, puzzlement fluttering across her pretty features.

"I don't remember. It's a bit hazy."

He nodded. "It was Harry. Who rode that stupid Hippogriff in our third year?" She shook her head and shrugged. Draco sat forward, his eyes flashing with benediction. "How can you not see, 'Mione? Every memory you have that has him in it has been tampered with, changed in some imperceptible way."

Her eyes narrowed as she mulled over the information. He knew her quick working brain would come to some conclusion. "If that's true, then why do you still remember him?" she asked.

"I don't rightly know," he admitted. She nodded, a brisk sort of motion, as if coming to a conclusion.

"Draco, I want you to listen to me, please. I think the reason you remember is because someone has messed with your memories, not ours. Someone wants you to believe in this fantasy you have. Why? I don't know. But I think you should go get looked at by St. Mungo's." Her tone held a note of finality, and he knew he had lost. There would be no persuading her. At least not at this time. However, it did not mitigate the feelings of irritation and loss. He had hoped so dearly that she would be able to help him. Standing to his full height, his mouth turned into a sneer.

"Astounding. Your blindness knows no bounds, apparently. I _am_ right, Granger. You'll see," he bit out, casting a few coins on the table and stalking away.

Hermione sat there, watching him with saddened eyes. She need to talk to someone about his condition, before it got worse. She loved Draco as one of her closest friends. But this was getting ridiculous. Perhaps his promotion to Head Auror had been too much for him to handle.

Pushing back her chair, she gazed around, thankful that the other patrons had returned to their own conversations. It would do no good for rumors mills to run with Draco's illusions. Shaking her head once again, she stood, and walked away in the opposite direction. She need to figure out how to handle the situation, the sooner the better. For Draco's sake.

Draco's ire was in full swing as he trudged down the streets of Diagon Alley. Even the congratulations and well wishes for his new position from passers-by were met with a scowl. Just because he was a 'good-bloke' now did not mean he was any less Malfoy. And he employed that to the fullest during his walk. Just the thought of being Head Auror was enough to deepen his scowl, and he rubbed a hand over his wary face. It wasn't supposed to be his position. It was Harry's. And he would have made a wonderful Head Auror, Draco thought fondly. And Draco… well he would be beside him, basking in his light. He laughed self-deprecatingly. Merlin, but he was becoming a sap.

"You've been dreaming of him again." A dreamy voice cut across his thoughts. He looked up, realizing with a shock that his wanderings had taken him just past _The Quibblers_ office. His eyes met the almost unfocused blue ones of Luna Lovegood. "Looney Luna," as she had been called in the past, still held that look of innocent dreaming that she had while at Hogwarts. Draco had pretty much ignored her during school, the Ravenclaws being beneath his notice, unless it was to tease and torment.

However, he seemed to recall she was one of those found at the Ministry when Harry had battled his father, and lost Sirius. She joined the folds of Harry supporters after that, a blonde little sunshine in amidst the lion pack. Now, she was well on her way to earning a name as a journalist.

He paused, looking her over. Yes, time had been good to her. Her long blonde hair was now cut in a chic layered style, and her smile still looked as hopeful and serene. She had grown a bit taller, but still retained her petite form. He smiled briefly at her.

"Luna. How are you?" he inquired. She smiled.

"A sight better than you, I think. You look haggard, Draco."

Draco pulled a face. "Do I? It's the job, I suppose."

Luna shook her head. "No, Draco. It's the dreams. You've been to see Harry's rock again, haven't you?" She leaned in, her voice dipping lowly.

To say that Draco was shock would be an understatement. His silver eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. "What?" he asked stupidly, grimacing. His eloquence was astounding, really.

"Harry's rock, out by Hogwarts. You've been there again," she repeated patiently, her smile still intact.

"How do you know that?" he asked, then wanted to hit his head against something. If she had any doubts, he had just confirmed them. He really must get his head checked after all.

"Nargles," she answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Draco frowned. Okay, maybe they should both be checked over. "They told me they had seen you out there this morning. They watch over that part of the lawn, you know. But they don't mind you." She paused, her smile slipping from her lips. "Besides, you always look like that when you have dreamt of him."

"Like what?" Draco asked, giving himself over to his inevitable stupidity that decided to plague him that afternoon. There was no salvaging his Malfoy-ness at this time. And he had to admit, he was more than a little curious.

"Haunted. And lonely."

He sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face again. "Yes, Luna. I have been his rock. And yes, the dreams are back. However, the question remains: how do you know about him anyway?"

Luna shrugged her slight shoulders. "Why shouldn't I? He is one of my friends after all."

Panic and elation overtook him for a moment and he stepped forward rapidly, grasping Luna's arms in his hands. His eyes were wild as he asked "Then you remember him too?"

She nodded twice, un-phased by his grip on her. "Of course. Although, no one else seems too. Well, except you, and Teddy." She looked confused for a moment. "I don't understand. He was our savior, and yet no one remembers." She looked up at him, her eyes strangely focused. "Why is that?"

Draco dropped his hands and ran one through his hair, mussing his pristine locks. "I haven't the slightest idea, Luna. That is what I am trying to schuss out. I just spoke with Hermione Weasley. As his best friend, I thought maybe she would remember something." He shook his head.

"She thought you were mental." Luna cocked her head. "They thought that once of Harry too. You're not, you know. Neither was he."

Nodding with a small smile, Draco had to chuckle. Had anyone told him ten years ago he would be declared sane by "Looney Luna" he would have called them daft, and probably punched them. Or at least had Goyle do it for him. Now, he found her proclamation strangely reassuring.

"Come," she said, holding out her small hand to him. "I want to show you something."

The back part of _The Quibbler_ was exactly what you'd expect from a old Newspaper shop-dusty, musty and perfect for sneezing. Draco had no problem attesting to all of the above, in particular the latter, as he sneezed yet again.

"Bloody hell, Luna, this place is a right mess," he complained. She just shrugged.

"I clean it up on a regular basis, but you know how Puffs can be."

Draco simply shook his head. No, he didn't readily know how Puffs were, but considering the state of the room, he could guess. With a quick flick of her wand, Luna had the room dust free and organized once again.

"They'll leave it be while we're in here," she informed him. He nodded and smiled slightly. Say what you want, Luna was always interesting company. "Now," she said, briskly brushing her hands against her denims, "I wanted to show you this." She pointed her wand at a box which levitated down to them. Draco reached out and grabbed it, unsure what to do next. Quickly, Luna conjured a couple of stools for them to sit on. Humming, she took the box from him and sat down. Draco followed suit, grimacing at the uncomfortable state of their sitting arrangements. Tossing off the lid, Luna bean shifting through its contents.

"I found these looking around the Forbidden Forest not too long after the end of the war. The Thestrals were breeding. It's always fascinating to hear their songs." Her eyes took on a far away look and Draco fought back a snort. Sooner than he anticipated, she came back to reality, blinking for a few moments. She pulled out a wand that Draco immediately recognized as Harry's, and a pendant in the shape of a snake with glittering emerald eyes.

Draco gasped, grabbing for the chain. Luna happily handed it over, curiosity riddling her expression.

"Is it his?" she asked. Draco nodded mutely. His eyes fastened on the curve of sliver and the glow of the eyes. Tenderly, he laid it in his palm, caressing the metal. It warmed to his touch and he watched, fascinated as the snake uncurled, wrapping itself around his pinky finger. It peeked its head up at him and uttered a his. He felt wetness form in the corner of his eyes and brushed the back of his hand over them.

"It seems to like you," Luna's soft voice whispered in the stillness of the room. The snake looked over at her, then settled its head back down on Draco's flesh. It had now formed a ring and Draco pulled the chain away from it.

"I…" he paused, his voice sounding gruff in his own ears. He cleared his throat, then started again. "I gave it to him, two nights before the final battle." His cheeks flushed as he realized he had just told Luna the secret he had kept dear to his heart for the past decade. Looking up, he waited to see surprise, or disgust in her eyes.

He saw none. Once again, his estimation of her went up. She was not at all what most people would consider _"normal."_ And yet, she was the one who seemed to make the most sense, and was by far, more accommodating then Harry's other friends. He snorted, wondering how the Weasleys would have taken the news that their Golden Boy wasn't so golden after all.

"I kinda suspected, you know. The ghosts like to talk sometimes. And they love gossiping about the students to the right person. Some of them approved, quite heartily." She smiled at his look of fearful shock. "Oh no worries, though. They never said anything outright. I just _knew_ it was you and Harry they were gushing over."

Draco had to chuckle a bit, thinking of ghosts "gushing" about anything. He stroked the ring once again, loving the warmth it radiated. And then his eyes flew to Luna's as he shot to his feet.

"He's alive," he said. Luna nodded.

"Of course he is."

Draco shook his head furiously. "No, I mean he is somewhere around here. Close by, even. The pendent was charmed to warm when I had it if he was close by." He looked back at the snake which was becoming increasingly warm.

Luna looked puzzled for a moment, her gaze drifting from the ring to Draco's face. It held such hope. Then her face cleared and her expression took on one of dreamy determination. She stood too, grasping his hand.

"Well, alright then. Let's go find him."

To Draco, no words had ever sounded sweeter. With a jolt and a nod he allowed her to lead him out of the shop and into the busy streets of Diagon Alley. _'Finally,'_ he thought, _'I've found him.'_


	4. Chapter 3 EJ

Disclaimer: Do I have to do this every time? Yes? Oh alright. Here it goes: Draco, and all his confused sexiness belong to J.K. Rowling. I just delight in messing with him.

A/N: I wanted to clear up a few things first off. Some might have been confused about what exactly happened to Harry. I'm hoping this chapter will help with that a bit. I am revealing things as Draco comes to understand them, so that my readers get a sense of what he is going through. Also, I know in the books it is Tonks that helps Harry with his nose and such in HBP. I chose, however, to follow the movie with Luna as his 'savior' as it fits with my plot better. In addition, this does keep with the deaths and most events in Deathly Hallows, with some plot exceptions. Meaning: those dead in DH are dead here. Sorry.

Again, the reviews and alerts make my little heart go pitter pat. Oh an if you find some mistakes, please PM me so I can fix them. Thanks and Enjoy.

* * *

_**Chapter 3 - E.J.**_

_First encounters were the thing for us. I remember each and every one clearly. The first time we met, he shunned me. The first time we saw each other after Dumbledore's death was vastly different. I shunned him. And saved his life. We had a habit of doing that. _

_Whether we knew it or not._

Muggle London seemed to be basking in the late spring weather, and as such, was abuzz with people and noise. Draco could feel it strumming through his veins like a well played guitar. To him, it boded well, heralding, he hoped, the success of his and Luna's mission. The ring had heated to an almost uncomfortable degree, causing the snake to hiss and writher around on his finger.

Also a good sign.

The unlikely duo walked quickly along the street directly leaving Diagon Alley, following the heat and vibrations of the ring. Time passed by them, completely unheeded. Draco had always found this to be true for him when he was focused on something. His sixth year at Hogwarts was a good case-in-point. He didn't remember half of it, so focused on his task of killing Dumbledore, or trying to at least. He flinched slightly at that memory. With it came the memory of Harry following them, calling out Snape and challenging everything Draco knew up to that point about the Chosen One.

It was a turning point for the both of them, one Draco never regretted. There was something about the fire in Harry's eyes that night, the unbridled hatred that made Draco catch his breath. He looked magnificent. Up until that year, he hadn't thought Gryffindor's Golden Boy could exhibit such Slytherin emotions. One hit from the _Sectumsempra_ curse and his views changed drastically. Even though Harry's eyes were wide and filled with self inflicted terror, Draco's estimation of him raised a notch. It was a ruthless spell and Harry had been ruthless in using it.

He learned much later that Harry had no idea what the curse would do, but the look… the passion and fire in his eyes as he cast it… Yes, Draco loved seeing that.

It was that fire and passion he had craved seeing again for ten long years. Now, he was on the cusp of his desires being fulfilled. He felt nearly giddy, heavy with want. Luna's hand on his arm caused him to pause. He stopped and looked down at her. Her eyes were dreamy, somewhat glassy. Her face was up turned, looking towards an immaculate high rise hotel. Draco followed her line of vision, puzzled. The ring was now burning and he fought to keep it on his finger.

"He's in there, I think," Luna said. Draco merely nodded, allowing her to pull him through the large front doors. His mind had ceased to function, lost in what he should say or do when he saw Harry again. Try as he might, he could not fight the surge of anger that pulled at him. Yes, he was worried, excited and happy. Ecstatic even. But those feelings were foreign to him, still. Anger, something that had sustained him through the toughest of times, was what he latched on to. Clinging to it like a drowning man, he steeled his emotions and his face, blanking into his trademark mask, a sneer splitting his lips.

Luna felt his tension, but still held firmly to his hand, dragging him unresistingly through the lobby. Somehow, he reckoned, she actually knew where she was going. Her face was set with determination that looked strange on her; she neither veered right nor left. Moments later, they were standing at the entrance to the hotels classy upscale restaurant. Draco paused for a moment, his anger clearing a tiny path. Confusion took its place. Why in all of magic, was Harry in a place like this?

Luna seemed to be a mind reader, as she smiled, glancing around. "I think he would like it here."

Draco frowned, looking around them as well before turning to her. "Why?"

A smile spread across her face. "Didn't you notice? We're near Hyde Park. He would like some place like that."

Fighting an answering grin, he turned back to the bustling scene before him. Various patrons sat, eating and drink merrily. They were Muggles, mostly, ordinary humans ignorant to what was around them. His nose wrinkled up a little. He might not be a Muggle hater, but he certainly wasn't a lover of the oblivious creatures, for that very reason. They had this knack of ignoring or explaining away what they didn't understand. And that, he thought, was inexcusable.

So, his eyes passed over every normal person, searching for the one that stood out among them. No one grabbed his attention at first. And then… in the corner, there he was. Black curly hair, a bit longer but still as messy and untamable as always. His back was to them, but Draco could tell by his stance that it was Harry. His shoulders looked broader, one hand tapped on the side of his leg to an unheard beat. They were still long fingered and Draco bit his lip, remembering just how talented those fingers really were. Desire and hope bubbled up in him briefly, catching his breath.

And then Harry stood, snapping shut his laptop and dropped a few coins on the table. Draco tensed, figuring he would have to walk past them to get out of the restaurant. His hand clinched into a fist, trying to still its shaking. Luna's grip on his hand squeezed gently and he relaxed minutely. His throat was dry, his lips parted in a shuddering breath, waiting.

Just as he was sure he would fall apart, Harry vanished from his line of sight. Frantic, he looked around, trying to ascertain his query's position. No, he couldn't lose him now. Not when he had come so close.

"Do you see him?" he asked Luna, his voice cracking, his heart pounding in his ears now. She shook her head.

"No, I think he slipped out another way. Maybe he's staying here. We can ask." She tugged on his hand. He felt waves of hope and helplessness flood him. Maybe she had a point. So he once again let her lead him away. A few short steps later, they were at the hostess' station. Draco cleared his throat softly.

"Excuse me," Luna called when the woman failed to look up at them.

"Be with you in a moment," she said, still involved in her activity. Draco was getting more impatient by the second.

"Madame, I have a question and need your assistance," he spoke charmingly. The result was instantaneous. The woman's head jerked up and an automatic smile pasted itself on her lips. She was pretty, by some standards, and Draco knew how to win his way around. His eyes narrowed a bit and his smile grew. She blushed.

"Yes? How may I be of assistance, then?"

"There was a man here, moments ago. Tall, dark haired. He was sitting at that table," Draco nodded his head in the direction of Harry's now empty spot. "Who was he?"

Surprisingly, the woman's mouth dropped open a bit, her eyes widened almost comically. "You mean, you don't know? Oh heavens. Love, you need to get out more." Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes and bit his tongue. "That's E.J."

Draco's brow furrowed with irritation and confusion. Even Luna looked puzzled. "Pardon?"

The hostess laughed. "E.J. He's an American author. Writes those fantasy books about wizards and witches. They're quite poplar here, you know?" She paused, looking over in the direction of his vacated table. Then she leaned forward and whispered "I hear he's here on vacation. I guess he has roots here. The waiter serving him said he was muttering about his latest books ending. Apparently, he's having trouble with it, and needed some time here to figure it all out." She took in their still surprised faces and smiled.

"If you're really interested in meeting him, he has a signing tomorrow at Foyles."

Draco's face scrunched up a moment, then cleared. "Thank you, Madame. Can you tell me one more thing?"

She nodded, still charmed by the beauty of a man before her. "Sure, love."

"Is he staying here?"

She smiled again, the look was almost predatory. "That he is. Through next week in fact. Although, I wasn't supposed to tell you that." She frowned. Draco placed a well groomed hand on hers and smiled brightly.

"It's safe with us, trust me."

The hostess merely nodded, and watched them go.

Once outside, Draco trudged across the street, agitated. His steps were long and filled with irritation, and Luna struggled to keep up. Finding an empty park bench, he finally sank down, burying his head in his hands. His long fingers alternated between tugging and running through his hair, messing it even more than Harry's had been. Luna sat down next to him quietly.

"I'm not wrong, am I?" he asked, hating how weak he sounded.

"No," Luna answered softly. "That was Harry."

"How do you know?" Suspicion flare to life in his silver eyes.

Luna shrugged. "Wrackspurts."

Suspicion melted to confusion. "What?"

"Wrackspurts. They're attracted to magic. The stronger the magic, the more there are. And Harry has always had plenty of both. How do you think I found him on the Train at the beginning of his sixth year? You remember."

Draco cringed. Oh yes, he remembered that night. He had broke Potter's nose and left him under his Invisibility Cloak on the Hogwarts Express. He had often wondered how Harry had managed to escape the confines of his curse. He had also wondered how different events would have been if Harry had ended up back in London. Would it have had any effect on him? His hand crept up unconsciously to touch the scar hovering over his heart. Maybe that was a question best left unanswered.

"So then, there were those…wrack things around this guy?"

Luna nodded. "Scores." She smiled.

Draco felt a myriad of emotions wash over him once again. Elation. Confusion. Fury. So many questions now haunted his mind. If that was Harry, what was he doing living in America? And why use a different name? Most importantly, why hadn't he tried to contact Draco? It wasn't like the Malfoy was in hiding or something. Rage surged through him. After all this time, all the worry and dream and want! Harry had been off, living another life.

Luna, fortunately, seemed to know the exact direction his thoughts had taken. She placed a comforting hand on his arm. "I think," she paused, waiting for him to look at her. Once his darken silver met her contemplative blue, she continued. Tapping a finger on her lower lip, she said "I think that perhaps Harry doesn't know he's Harry. I don't think it has anything to do with you." She nodded, looking out across the Park. "Perhaps, Harry forgot who he was, just like everyone else did."

He sat there, silent for many long minutes, mulling over her explanations. In a lot of ways, it made perfect sense. Something had certainly gone wrong that night of the final battle, something that made the whole world forget Harry Potter, Boy Wonder and Savior of the wizarding world. It was quite possible what had affected everyone he knew had done a number on Harry as well.

Still, that left the question of _what_ exactly had gone wrong, a puzzle he still hadn't any idea how to solve. However, he had a feeling he had now gained a new ally. One who knew his Harry and would be willing to help him in his quest to bring him back. He had never been quite so happy to know a Ravenclaw as he did now.

He stood, brushing off his trousers and held out his arm to her. Luna took it with a smile. "I guess there is only one way to find out for sure. Would you accompany me to the signing tomorrow? Maybe seeing us will help him."

Luna's smile was welcome and serene. "Of course."

They began to head back together, chatting quietly about the happenings in their world, so vastly different from this one. _And yet, not._ Draco reflected. If a wizard like Harry could find his way in the Muggles world, it couldn't be so dissimilar.

Stopping just before the entrance to Diagon Alley, Draco looked over his shoulder. Luna paused beside him.

"Alright there, Draco?" Nodding, he took her hand, placing a kiss on the back of it.

"You go on. I think I'll stay here awhile longer. There is something I want to suss out. I will meet up with you tomorrow. Say 1 'o clock at _The Quibbler?"_

Luna smiled, understanding. "That sounds nice. Happy reading, Draco. And look out for the Nargles. They seem to like it around here." With a fond wave she disappeared into Diagon Alley.

Draco smiled and shook his head. Yes, it was time he rethought many things. But now, he was on a mission to retrieve a book by the author they called E.J. He wondered if any of his questions might find answers in the words written by his heart's one desire.

"Let's find out, shall we?" he murmured, pushing open the door to a shiny big book shop filled with shiny new books. It boasted a shiny sign proclaiming the upcoming signing if one of America's hottest writers. Draco raised a brow at the cover art on display. It looked curiously like Dumbledore. Shrugging, he stepped up to the large book shelf, looking over the titles sacrificially offered up for the avid readers consumption. A grinning customer stood off to his left happily flipping through the pages.

"Is there a book to begin with?" Draco asked. The young man nodded, grabbing a book with a strange looking mirror and a little bespectacled boy with a broom. Some warning toll struck Draco deep inside and he snatched the book quickly from the man's hands. Scouring the cover, he then flipped to the back. There he was… there wasn't a doubt in his mind now. E.J. was most definitely Harry Potter. His features had sharpened with age; his hair still the unruly mass Draco loved pushing his fingers through. His eyes, no longer hidden behind silly glasses, shone bright with intelligence. And Draco was sure that up close, they would be just as green. He remembered how they had darkened with passion. He held himself with a quiet sort of confidence that could not be staged. He was all Draco had imagined and more. And that was only his photo.

Draco forcefully squashed the urge to hold the book to his chest and grin madly. Instead, he thanked the useful Muggle and purchased the book. Stepping out of the bookstore, he walked a few steps away to an Apparition point. Glancing around, he then disappeared.

Gracefully he landed in his sitting room, happy, for once, to be home. His treasured find clutched in his hand, he quickly made a cup of coffee and curled up in his favorite chair. Black overstuffed leather reached up to envelope him and he sighed gratefully. Checking his wards and closing the Floo, he was determined to not allow anything to interrupt him. With shaking hands, he cracked open the book, half expecting the angels to begin singing.

What he didn't expect to find was himself, in black and white words.


	5. Chapter 4 True Friends

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

A/N: This chapter got away from me. *shrugs* I kinda like writing Pansy. She's interesting to me. I also like writing the older characters. It's nice to work with them as grown ups. I had a few reviews last time asking about what happened to Harry. It will be answered in coming chapters. If you are confused on that point, well, all I can say is I want my readers to understand things as Draco does. He's confused just as much as you are. I'm evil.. I know. Just to tease... Harry will finally show up in the next chapter...

And I love hearing from you all. The reviews are awesome, and I can't believe how many alerts this has gotten. So thank you. I will strive to answer your questions, as long as they do not give out spoilers. Hope you do enjoy!

* * *

_**Chapter 4 - True Friends**_

"_Do you have any regrets, Potter?" I asked him, a snide smirk on my face. Goyle and Crabbe snickered behind me. _

_Harry seemed thrown for a moment then laughed a bit. "Of course, doesn't everybody?" _

_Somehow, the question intrigued me. "And what could the Great Harry Potter possibly regret?"_

_His smile faded rapidly, his eyes bright with an emotion I couldn't identify. Instantly the atmosphere changed around us, and I was completely caught off guard when he stepped up to me. Placing his hand on my chest, right where my scar laid, he simply said softly "This."_

Dawn saw a blurred eyed and shaken Draco Malfoy. He had spent the entirety of his night reading _"The Mirror of Erised." _The book was shockingly accurate, and he found himself lost in the words of the writer. Harry had quite the knack for details, letting his readers feel and see just what he did. It was breath taking at times, and eye opening always. Draco saw himself through the eyes of the man he had once despised so much, only to discover he wasn't who he thought he was.

His adventure into the written world of Hogwarts had only served to confirm his suspicions. E.J. was undoubtedly Harry Potter. However, Draco also concluded that Luna had been correct in her theory, at least in part. This Harry wrote as he saw his magical world as something fancied, not bathed in reality, wrapped in secrecy. His points were accurate, his characters true to life- sometimes painfully so. Yet, it screamed construed mocking believability. As if Harry had seen it all second-hand, and was now daring his readers to prove him wrong.

However, between the lines, Draco found something much more mysterious, something that struck a cord of pain within him. Between the lines, he read of the _real_ Harry, the scared and confused little boy who had been thrust into an unfamiliar world filled with things most only imagine. To face what he had at eleven…Draco shoved a hand over his face roughly. There was so little he knew of the man he had looked for, that now he had to wonder if he had known him at all.

Wearily, he climbed to his feet. It was still relatively early. He could go to bed for a bit before preparing for the signing. With a sense of purpose, he strode across his floor, intent on getting a few hours of shut eye before facing the man he desired above all else.

Once again, however, Fate seemed ever so content to wreck havoc on his plans. Just as he fell into bed, a sharp knock sounded on his door. For a moment, he was going to ignore it, hoping against hope that whoever it was would just go away. That was until the person spoke.

"Draco, darling. I know you're in there. Open up," Pansy Nott- _nee` _Parkinson's- voice came through the heavy door loud and clear. Draco wondered off-offhandedly, if she hadn't cast a _Sonorus _spell. Then again, she was never one known for her quiet and meek personality. With a yawn and a scowl, Draco dragged himself off his bed and out to the front door. Opening it up, he sneered.

"Pansy, this had better be good," he growled. Pansy pushed past him and looked around the room. Turning, she sized him up, hands on her hips.

"You're just now going to bed," she accused. Draco flinched. She had a way of reading him all too well. He supposed it came from years upon years of close companionship.

"I had work to do last night," he countered. She merely cocked an eyebrow at him, reminding him uncomfortably of himself. She really could have been a Malfoy. Or maybe it was just a Slytherin trait. He shook his head with a slight grin. "Alright, I was up reading. I lost track of time, I guess." It wasn't a complete lie. He had lost track of time…and space… and reality.

Pansy nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer, for the time being. She tossed a rolled up newspaper at him. "Well, here's a bit more for you to read. I dare say you might find this just as entertaining."

Draco caught it deftly and snapped it open. _The Daily Prophet_'s headline proclaimed loudly _"Head Auror Malfoy's Lucky Ladies." _He groaned, looking at the two pictures directly below. One of Hermione and himself at lunch, the other one of Luna standing before him, her hand on his wrist. It must have been taken just before they left for London in search of Harry. Just the mere thought of his search made the snake ring slither around his finger in agitation. The ring was not happy, he could tell. Too long, it had been separated from its master, and it was just as anxious to be reunited with Harry as Draco was. Absentmindedly, he stroked it, waiting until it had settled before tossing the paper on the kitchen counter on his way to make coffee. Sleep was not in the forecast for him anytime soon.

"So?" Pansy asked, causing him to start. He had forgotten she was there.

"So?" he repeated. "So what, Pansy?" She followed him, perching her hip against the island.

"Is there any truth to it?"

Draco rolled his eyes and snorted. "Of course not. What do you take me for anyway?"

Pansy shrugged. "I heard about Ginny leaving you, some sort of claim about you stepping out on her. And now this…" She waved her hand over the paper. "I'm your friend, Draco. You can tell me."

Draco poured himself a cup of coffee and took a deep breath. The warming feel of the mug and the sharp smell of the drink calmed him somewhat. "Look Pansy. I may not be happy with Ginny. But this dribble is simply ridiculous. Hermione is a married woman, whose husband works in my department. I'm not mental, you know. I wouldn't go there."

Pansy nodded. Despite what he had been in his earlier years, Draco was not someone to encourage infidelity now. "And Luna?"

This one was harder. How much could Draco tell her without her demanding a Healer see him? He was still rather sore over Hermione's lack of faith in him. "I won't deny Luna has grown up well." He caught the smirk developing on Pansy's lips and nipped it in the bud. "However, she is merely helping me with a case. That is all." Pansy's smirk turned into a pout.

"I love you, Draco, you know that. But there is no fun in you anymore. You have become rather boring."

Draco simply smiled. "I'm making up for all my years as a total prat."

Pansy sighed, accepting the cup he held out to her. "Sometimes, I miss the prat." After taking a sip, she set the cup back down. "Alright, so if you're not stepping out on Gin with Hermione and Luna, then why did she leave? I know they were expecting you to seal the deal any day now."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Draco took a deep breath. "I couldn't."

Pansy frowned. "Couldn't or wouldn't?" she asked.

"Is there any difference, really?" Draco's tone was one of exasperation and made Pansy take a closer look at him. Her friend looked haunted, more so than she had seen him in quite a while. She pulled out a chair and sat down, propping her chin on her hand.

"I suppose not. Well, then why _couldn't_ you?" Draco sighed, plopping into his own chair. His tiredness seemed more profound as the moments dragged on.

"I'm being completely selfish with this, I'll have you know. I simply could not bear being with someone I do not love, or even like for that matter. Perhaps as a fling, maybe. But not a commitment like she was hedging for." He paused, uncomfortable with his next train of thought. Had he been selfish by letting her go? Or had he really seen what would be better for her in the end? Pinning after someone who may or may not be alive or real for that matter, was not conducive to a working relationship. And truth be told, Draco couldn't stand the thought of being with her, touching her, when his memories of Harry were so far in the forefront of his mind these days.

However, he still could not admit to anyone, other than himself, that the memories of Harry, his desire and passion for the boy he once knew were what drove him to believe he could never be happy with anyone other than Harry. Now that it was truly a possibility, he knew for a fact he felt even more bereft. He looked up at Pansy, and saw her studying him intently. He swallowed thickly, knowing that if she asked, he just might spill it all.

Then where would he be?

Her calculating gaze was beginning to wear on him. "Just say it," he ground out.

"You look miserable, Draco. Haunted, like you have this weight on you and you don't quite know what to do with it. We could tell each other so much in the past. Why can't you tell me now? I know it's more than this Ginny thing. Is it the job?"

That was one of the reasons Draco loved and hated Pansy. She saw past his mask, the façade he kept around him. She was right, they could tell each other almost anything before. But this… this was so far fetched. He was literally taking on the world and attempting to change it.

_Nevertheless, Harry had done that for years, remember?_

Draco squelched the urge to deny and scream, but his subconscious was right as well. Somehow the Boy Who Lived, and the Man Who Disappeared had changed the world time and again. So wasn't it about time someone else did it for a change? He nodded mentally.

"It's not the job, Pansy. The promotion's fine." He paused. He didn't want a repeat of Granger's reaction to him. "Well, no, that's not entirely true. It is partially the job, and Ginny, and…" He waved his hand around to encompass the room. "And all of this. It's all wrong. It's not me, and I'm sick of living like this."

Pansy wore a confused look, and Draco couldn't blame her for it. "But you have it good, Draco. Out of everyone in our house, you did something worthwhile. You rose above those with petty jealousies and made something out of yourself. And this, it's just a perk."

Draco shook his head. "No, it's a lie. I'm living a life meant for someone else. Did you know I never wanted to be an Auror? In school I used to mock those wanna-bes heroes."

"So why did you?" Pansy asked.

"Because, I thought that by living the life he wanted, maybe I could be close to him again." He held up his hand, anticipating her questions. "I wasn't entirely truthful with you earlier. Luna is not working on a case for the Ministry, as I hinted at. She's helping me track down someone. Someone I care deeply for, and someone I want back in my life very much." He took a deep shuddering breath and looked up at her.

"It's Potter again, isn't it?" she asked, shocking Draco right off his seat. He sat there for a moment, his arse on the floor, mouth open in shock. Pansy rolled her eyes. "Shut your mouth, dear. Or you'll catch flies." Draco did as he was told and rose. Standing on trembling legs, he waited for her sensor. She, however, remained still.

"Did you talk to Granger? Or Luna?" he asked, trying to piece together the puzzle. She shook her head. "Then how?"

Pansy allowed a small smile to flicker over her face. "Honestly, Draco. I _know _you. We have history together. Almost three decades of it, even. And I know that you have never lied to me." Draco's face held surprise, and she could almost see the wheels turning. He nodded then, and she continued. "I remember the owls you sent me after that war. The frantic desperation you had in trying to find Potter and the confusion at everyone else's lack of knowledge, or memory. It was no story you had made up, was it?"

Draco shook his head. "No," he whispered. Pansy nodded, a satisfied smile on her lips.

"I thought as much. I still have some memories of him as well. I was sure we both couldn't be mental." She cocked her head to the side. "Why did you give up? It's not like you to quit. You're somewhat Gryffindor in that matter, anyway."

A choking noise came from Draco's throat and she laughed. "I am not Gryffindor in any way, shape or form."

Pansy shrugged, still giggling. "In this you are. So why?"

Silence filled the room for a moment. Draco struggled with the answer, a tug of war pulling inside of him. Why _had_ he given up? "I think I became too tired. Searching without any sort of clue, without help. Those I spoke to only gave me looks of pity, or confusion." He shuddered. Those few years directly after the war were cold and strange. A world without the slightest hint of Harry, while he tried to repair the damage his family had helped to do, was empty and lonely indeed. He had felt adrift, lost in a sea of people who should have hated him, and didn't. True, there had been looks of distrust and suspicion. But on the whole, the wizarding world had toted him as a hero. The exact place that should have belonged to Harry was his. Moreover, he had liked it, basked in it even, for a while.

Then, he came to realize the fundamental truth about Harry that he had ignored all their years as enemies. Harry did what he did because he _had_ to. He never expected praise. He simply did it. Draco then understood that he hadn't really known Harry after all. Even in their brief but intense relationship just prior to that final battle, Draco had constructed certain ideas around the younger man.

Draco ran a hand through his hair. "But it was more than just that. I came to see that I had not taken the time to get to know Harry, the boy, not the hero. And then, he was gone, and I realized I might never have the chance to change that. I lost my drive then, and found other ways to connect with him, as abstract as it seems."

"Your job," Pansy supplied.

Draco nodded. "And Ginny. Neither one were meant for me. Ginny was Harry's girl for a while, until our seventh year, you know, when he was gone. And being an Auror was his dream, not mine." He held up a hand, preventing Pansy's reply. "Yes, I like my job now, but it wasn't, and still isn't what I want to spend my life doing. Harry would have made Head Auror for sure; and I would have stood beside him, proud to have some part in his life."

Pansy's smile was strained and she reached out a hand to touch his cheek. "Oh Draco." Her voice held a tinge of sadness. "You loved him."

"No," Draco shook his head. "No I didn't. I didn't know him, the real him, enough to. But I think if we had had the chance, I could have."

"And now?"

Draco's finger stroked the ring on his finger, watching as the snake shivered and warmed a bit. Yes, Harry wasn't too far away, still in the city if the warmth was any sort of clue. "He's back."

"Wonderful! So why are you still sitting here?" Pansy grinned. Draco sat back with a sigh and rubbed his head with one hand. He could feel the stirrings of a headache begin. He bowed his head, his shoulders bearing a weight no one knew, save for perhaps Luna, and Teddy. And maybe Pansy now.

"Because, as far as Luna and I have discovered, Harry may not be Harry any more." He stood and walked over to his couch, grabbing the book off the cushions and tossing it in Pansy's direction. She caught it, surprisingly, and looked at the cover in curiosity.

"What is this?" she asked.

"Turn it over," he requested, a grim smile stretching his lips as she gasped, her eyes wide. He nodded. "Yes, it's him. Luna and I saw him yesterday, in a hotel in Muggle London."

"A wizard hotel?"

"No, a Muggle one. The hostess at the restaurant was gracious enough to inform us that he was staying there under the name E.J." Pansy raised puzzled eyes to his. "Apparently, he has been living in America and has come back to finish his latest book, as he has 'roots' here." He barked out a laugh as sharp as shattered glass. "Roots! Imagine. His parents must be spinning in their graves."

"But, Draco, I don't understand. If he's pretending to be this E.J. I could understand a pseudo name. But..." she paused, looking over the book again. "This book looks normal. Muggle normal. There isn't a hint of magic anywhere on it."

Draco nodded, sinking back into his chair and buried his head in his hands. "Exactly. Luna suspects Harry has forgotten he is a wizard somehow." Pansy gaped, but he missed it.

"How does one forget they are magical?" She sounded perfectly horrified.

"I don't know. But I mean to find out. He has a book signing today, and I plan on getting some answers, one way or another." His jaw clinched in determination. Possessively, he reached out to take the book from Pansy. For an unknown reason, he felt as if it was his only connection to Harry, the real Harry. She handed it back after a moment.

"And the book? What is it about?" she asked, a bit wary of the sudden fire in Draco steel eyes.

"Us, all of us our first year at Hogwarts. He wrote about what he went through, even if he doesn't know it."

"But that's a good sign, right? If he really had forgotten, on the surface, then at the very least somewhere deep down, he remembers. It just needs some of the cobwebs brushed away." She stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. Squeezing it, she smirked. "And who better to do it than you, dear? Everyone knows you two were the best at getting reactions from each other. You'll see. It will all be fine."

Strangely, Draco was inclined to believe her. Perhaps it was his own desperation, but he truly believed it would all work out somehow. He offered her a smile. "Thanks, Pans."

She nodded in return and kissed his cheek. "I have to get back to Theo. He's leaving tonight for the Harpies tour, you know." She peered at him. "You sure you'll be alright?"

Draco stood, linking his arm with hers and walked her to the fireplace. "I'm sure. I'll let you know what I discover, yeah?"

"Yes, please do. And good luck, darling. I'll give Theo your 'hellos.' With a saucy wave and a yell, she vanished into the Floo. Draco watched until the flames had died down completely before sighing. Now that she was gone, he mulled over their conversation. It struck him as odd that she did indeed remember Harry. It also brought up the question as to why. What set Luna, Teddy, Pansy and himself apart from the rest? Confusion swirled through his mind and he decided he had better ask Luna. Oddities were her expertise after all.


	6. Chapter 5 Signing My Life Away

Disclaimer: Still held in the grasp of JK Rowlings. The ocs in this chapter are mine, however.

A/N: *face palms and hides in shame.* Goodness it has been a terribly long time since I worked on this one, not for lack of trying. I got rather stuck. But, I'm now unstuck, and have a complete outline for this story. So it will be updated alternately with Foolish Games. Most likely once a week as time allows me to. Thanks in advance to all who have stuck with this. I hope you enjoy the latest installment!

* * *

_**Chapter 5- Signing My Life Away**_

_I wasn't as excited as most first years entering the robe shop. After all, I had been there several times during my eleven years of life. While Mother often had her dress robes created by a special dress maker, mine as well as Fathers were ordered through Madame Malkin's Robe shop. The place was well lit, and friendly, I suppose. _

_I was bored out of my skull. _

_Until he walked in. The scrawny little boy with big green eyes behind too big glasses and tousled dark hair that looked like he had been in a fight. His clothes were much too big for his slight frame. All in all, he was the personification of a ruffian, exactly the type of person my parents told me to stay away from._

_But I couldn't. Not from him. Never from him. _

"Bloody hell."

Draco rubbed his head briefly, trying to stave off the beginnings of a headache. Already he was a half hour late, and if the queasy feeling in his stomach was anything to go by, he would have to calm his nerves before trying to Apparate. Being spliced in half was certainly not an option.

Unless he was completely nutters.

Honestly, he was beginning to wonder.

Somewhere between Pansy's departure and his getting ready for the signing, doubt had begun to swirl in his mind. Doubts about Harry remembering, doubts that it was something simple as Pansy thought. With Luna's theory roaming around in his brain, and Pansy's words, he felt chaotic. And Malfoys did not do chaotic. Taking a few deep breaths, he double checked his appearance, a slight smirk on his face. Harry had once told him he had never seen someone so devoted to looking good.

Draco, of course, smiled and flippantly responded with "Perfection is hard to come by after all." It was one of their few peaceful moments. He felt his smile fade away as the pain and trepidation of the signing bore down on him. With yet another deep breath, he stalked to his fireplace. Floo-ing, apparently, would be his mode of transportation. He couldn't calm is nerves enough to attempt Apparation successfully after all. Throwing a handful of powder into the fireplace, he called out "The Quibbler," and stepped on through.

Luna, to his relief, was in the main office when he arrived. She looked up at him with a serene smile that seemed to be a much need balm to his nerves.

"You look nice," she commented, thankfully dodging the fact that his hair was up on ends and his eyes almost looked wild. He gave her a grateful smile and smoothed his hair back into place, then brushed off his clothes. His dove grey shirt and tailored black slacks were not only stylish, but comfortable. He concluded sometime ago that style and comfort really could go hand in hand.

Nodding his head, he took a moment to take in her outfit as well. Luna, known for her rather flamboyant attire while at Hogwarts, had forgone the bright colors for a fitted black jacket over a baby blue skirt. The combination was professional and classy, and Draco whole heartedly approved. Once again, the underestimated witch had surprised him.

"Thank you. You look lovely as well, Luna."

She graced him with another smile and stood. "I'm used to doing interviews. Daddy doesn't like to deal with people, if he can get away with it. I don't mind so much. But I found most don't take a person seriously when dressed in my usual fashion," she replied, looking past him with a dreamy look. Draco wondered what her usual fashion consisted of. In some ways, it would be a shame to dull down Luna's personality, confining her to clothing more suited for the rigid followers of society. He briefly hoped this was not the case with her.

His thoughts were derailed when she held out a camera. He took it from her, cocking his eyebrow. "And this for?"

"I thought about the best approach to talk to Harry." Draco had the grace to blush, realizing he had not thought about it at all. Luna picked up a small device and a pen and pad. "Going as reporters might possibly get us farther with him than showing up as simple fans."

Draco nodded his head, studying the camera. He turned back to her. "You seem to be much more prepared than I," he told her.

"I have less invested in this than you do, Draco. I was his friend, true. But not on the level you were."

Draco turned his head to the side, ducking her gaze. She was right, he knew it. Harry and he had something much deeper. At least, he thought they did. Today just might prove or disprove that idea. A light touch of Luna's hand on his arm redirected his attention to her. Her face, for once was completely serious, although he could see the sympathy in her eyes. They stood there for a moment in complete silence, allowing Draco to compose his thoughts before they left. Finally, he pressed his hand on top of hers slightly.

"Ready?" he asked. She nodded and together, they left the newspaper office, Apparating directly to an alley a few streets over from Foyles. Stepping into the street, Draco took a look around. Already, there was a line of fans waiting to get into the shop, hoping for a glance at the successful and mysterious author. Luna handed him a press pass, which he slipped over his head quickly.

* * *

London seemed just as chaotic as his own mind, and he had to wonder if Harry would always bring that sense to the area he was in. He certainly had done so at Hogwarts, whether he wanted to or not. It had been a sore spot with him, Draco knew. So it was with some surprise that he would agree to something as public as a signing. Perhaps more had change in him than just his name and seemingly lack of memories. Draco felt someone bump into him, and he quickly moved off to the side. Luna grabbed his hand and pulled him passed all the waiting fans into a line marked "PRESS."

"I didn't know it would be this busy," she said loudly, over the noise of the crowd. "He must be quite the thing."

Draco smiled wanly. "If the rest of his books are anything like the first, he deserves the hype."

"So you did buy one," Luna stated.

Draco shrugged. "I may have been in Slytherlin, but I still know to do my research before working a case. Being an Auror has taught me that much."

Luna shook her head. "No, Draco, you have always been studious. You just don't like to admit to it, among other things." She paused a moment, flashing her press pass as they made their way in. Draco followed suit, quietly looking around the huge book store. It made Hogwarts' library almost seem small. "Did it give you the answers you sought?"

Draco returned his attention to his slight companion with a frown. "Yes, in some ways. I have no doubt in my mind that E.J. is our Harry. And yet, it rose so many more about the man I thought I knew."

"It's about him, isn't it? His books are about his life," Luna stated knowingly.

Draco nodded. "His life, in a way that I think most never knew about." His expression looked pained for a moment before he composed his face. "I realized just from reading that book, that I never really got to know the real Harry. Not like I wanted to, anyways."

Luna squeezed his arm for a moment. "Perhaps, now is your chance."

Silence struck the pressing crowds as a graceful young man stepped up to a table laden down with stacks of E.J.'s books. He looked oblivious to everything around him for a moment, his eyes cast downwards to the books in front of him. Then slowly, he raised his head, his gaze quickly flicking over the crowd before a small smile settled on his full lips.

"Welcome ladies and gentlemen. Thanks for coming. I am E.J.," he paused a moment, his green eyes widening as they caught on Draco. For just an instant, green smashed into grey and Draco found himself breathless. Then just as quickly, E.J.'s gaze snapped away, leaving Draco with a sense of de`ja vu. It was like meeting Harry again, for the first time. Draco shook his head, clearing his thoughts as Luna cast him a questioning look.

E.J. cleared his throat, his velvety voice ringing out over the gathered fans. "I am pleased to be able to meet with you today, and hope you have derived as much pleasure from reading my little tales as I have in writing them. When I began writing 9 years ago, I never imagined that people would read my stuff, much less buy it." He grinned sheepishly, his cheeks turning rosy. "But here you all are. I'll open the floor to a few questions before I begin the signing."

Immediately, the noise level in the room rose, people shouting questions out, and hands raised in eager attempts to catch the young man's attention. Luna held back, much to Draco's surprise. Her earlier words came back to him, and he decided she really did know what she was doing. E.J. picked a little boy to start off with, and the fans grew quiet. Draco smiled. Harry still had a way with commanding the masses.

"Why is Harrison's family so mean to him? I don't like mean people," the little boy said.

E.J. smiled kindly. "I guess because he's different. And some people don't like what is different to them. I'm glad you don't like mean people. I don't either. It's always best to be nice and accept others for who they are," he concluded. His response satisfied the small boy, and he was rewarded with a big smile. "Next."

"Mr. E.J., Thomas Green, London Times. There have been rumors that your next book will be the final in the series. Can you confirm that?" a tall lanky man asked, pushing his glasses back up on his nose. E.J. frowned a moment.

"I really can't say at this time. The book I am working on currently will certainly tie up many loose ends. Whether or not it will be the last remains to be seen." He chuckled a bit. "I am a slave to my muses, after all. I hope it will satisfy certain curiosities, however."

The hum of the fans started up again, hands shooting into the air, begging for a scrap of his attention. He selected a short rotund woman next, her graying hair frizzed out around her head. "Mr. E.J., what made you begin your career as a writer? You're young, you could do anything."

E.J. seemed to pause for a moment before giving his answer. "I suppose you're right. I could be out doing anything. But writing is my passion. I feel alive when I sit down to pound out my stories. My characters have become as real to me as you are here. I've never really thought to do something else." His eyes were unfocused for a moment, as if lost in his own thoughts. Then they cleared and he smiled warmly. "As for your question, I began writing because I had something I wanted to share with others, a bit of knowledge to impart."

"But your works are obviously fiction," a voice shouted out.

E.J.'s gaze darkened as he sought out the interloper. Draco felt his heart stop. Here was the Harry he had glimpsed in those words. No, he wasn't completely lost.

"The stories may be such, but the lessons my readers take away are not. I write not only for entertainment, but in the hopes that my readers will learn something by Harrison's experiences, and that of those around him." His eyes scanned the whole crowd once again, resting on Draco finally. Something in the green flashed suddenly, and E.J. jerked visibly away.

"Take for example- Draco. The boy is faced with two choices in the last book. To live up to his parents' expectations and do something he knows is wrong, or to be true to himself and forge his own path."

Draco choked quietly, his eyes fluttering closed at E.J.'s words.

"Personally, I think in the end, he chose what was right for him. It's something we all face one time or another in our lives," E.J. finished quietly. Draco's eyes snapped open, his watery gaze glued to the amazing young man. Something inside him shattered, and he had to turn away completely. Never in all their conversations, had Harry told him this. And yet, here he was, so close Draco could touch him, admitting he at least understood Draco's decision that horrible night.

It was almost more than he could bear. A cool hand pressed on his arm and he looked down into the knowing gaze of his companion. "I need some air," he said.

She nodded. "I'll see if I can't secure us an interview, yeah?"

Draco bobbed his head before making his way through the throngs and out onto the sidewalk. He stood there, hands in his pocket, his fingers flexing repeatedly as he strove to calm down. This situation was spinning out of his control. And as always, he hated feeling out of control. It was in the Malfoys very nature to hold thing in balance, to keep a tight reign over their interactions. Most importantly, they never allowed their emotions to determine their actions.

Upon reflection, Draco realized he was a pretty poor example of Malfoy pride. With a smirk he shook his head in self derision. Harry had told him once he was only pretending to be the Prince of Slytherlin. Draco was now somewhat inclined to agree.

Feeling much calmer, he spun on his heel and headed back inside. Sliding around the fans and other reporters, he laid a hand on the small of Luna's back, alerting her to his return. She glanced at him, then gave him a once over. Satisfied, she smiled.

"He's finished up the questions. Most interesting, really. He's so Harry, and so not," she informed him.

He nodded in answer, focusing back on the seated E.J. "And the interview?"

She gave him a smile that was far too mischievous for her face. "We will ask when you get your book signed. You brought it, didn't you?" she asked.

Draco flushed, his expression one of guilt. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the tiny book. Looking around to make sure they were not being watched, he enlarged it, tucking it under his arm.

Twenty minutes later found them before the signing table, and E.J. Draco had taken the time during their wait to compose himself as much as he could. His eyes flashed with steely determination, his mouth pulled into a firm line. When he handed his book over, he felt gratified that his hand did not even have the slightest of trembles.

Until E.J. looked up, and their eyes met. Again, Draco felt that magnetic pull, the air around them humming with unresolved tensions. Green darkened to a brilliant deep emerald, a color that reminded Draco of their passion filled night. There was longing in those eyes, longing he was sure was reflected in his own silver depths.

"To whom do I make this out to?" E.J. asked, his silken tones only deepening the tension crackling through the atmosphere. He dipped his head down, hand posed to write.

"Draco Malfoy, please," Draco responded, his tone quiet.

E.J.'s head jerked up so hard it was a wonder he didn't have whiplash. "Excuse me? Is this some kind of joke?" His eyes roamed over the man before him, his posture tense with anger. "I've heard of fans cosplaying, but this is rather ridiculous."

Draco stepped back as if he had been slapped. "No, a Malfoy never jokes about their names. My name is Draco Lucius Malfoy, so given to me by my father and mother." His expression darkened.

E.J. shook his head. "Impossible. I created Draco." He studied the now fuming man. "Although I must say you look an awful lot like the little prat."

Draco ground his teeth. "Prat? Tell me, sir. Do you enjoy insulting other people's given names?" he growled out, knowing somewhere in the back of this mind that this conversation was completely ludicrous.

"Only if the person has gone completely mental. Which clearly, you sir, have." He slammed the book shut, shoving it in Draco's direction. "Please, leave now." He dipped his head in acknowledgement to Luna with an apologetic smile.

Draco snatched the book back. "You're just as stubborn as you have always been, Harry. And just as idiotic. Merlin, it's a wonder you could even possibly compose something successful. You haven't the sense…never mind," he shot back, his voice drawing the attention of the lingering crowds. "Come on, Luna. I can see I was very much mistaken. Whomever this imposter is, he's not our Harry." With that, he turned away, his long strides taking him swiftly away from the infuriating man.

"Now I know you're mental," E.J.'s voice followed him. "Harry's not real."

"You damn well got that right," Draco yelled back, the store's double doors banging as he moved through them.

Luna frowned, then nodded briefly to E.J. "Sorry about him. Stressful day and all." She dropped her card on the table. "I know this isn't the time, but I'd like to schedule an interview while you are here in town. I promise to leave him at home," she offered with a small smile.

E.J. took the card, looking at it dubiously. "I'll think about it," he replied.

Luna waved. "Thank you. And congrats on the turn out. You're brilliant." With a final smile, she followed Draco's path out of the store and onto the street. She glanced around, looking for the tall blond. She found him leaning against the store wall, his head tipped back and his eyes closed. Deep breaths puffed out of his mouth as he tried to bring his temper down to a simmer.

"What just happened in there?" he asked, his voice painfully broken. He scrubbed a hand over his face, the other stuffed deeply in his pocket, clutching the shrunk book in his palm.

"I think that is something only you can answer. From what I saw, you two connected," Luna replied.

Draco's eyes opened and he gave her a look of complete exasperation. "Pardon? Would you care to explain where in all the yelling you came to that conclusion?"

Luna smiled serenely. "Oh Draco, didn't you see it?"

"See what?" he asked dumbly.

"The emotion the two of you bring out in each other."

"Well no," he snorted. "That was kind of hard to miss, with the shouting and insults."

She shook her head. "No, not that kind of emotion. There was something deeper there. You had a familiarity about your actions. It was Hogwarts all over again, really."

"But I don't want to go through all of that again, Luna. We were so far past that." He groaned. "Why can't things be like they were?"

"Because they're not," she replied wisely. "Maybe this is where you need to start, Draco. He doesn't remember you, or me for that matter. Maybe he needs to meet you all over again."

"And you think this is how to begin, with us yelling at each other?" he snarled.

Luna shrugged. "It's a start. He'll remember you, out of all the other faces he saw today. He will remember yours."

Draco shook his head in annoyance. Damn it all if she wasn't right. Part of the reason the blond had fought with Harry in school was so that he would remain in the forefront of the dark haired wizard's mind. And it worked, he knew. Harry had said as much once.

"Now," Luna tugged on his arm, dragging him out onto the sidewalk in the direction of a small coffee shop. "I may have managed to get us a sit-down with him." She grinned when Draco's gaze widened. "And I might let you come along, if you agree to make some attempt at behaving yourself."

Draco bobbed his head. "Of course. I am a Malfoy after all," he said, with an arrogant toss of his head. "And we never embarrass ourselves twice."

Luna hid a smile as they wandered into the coffee shop. "Yes, but Draco, even I know when it comes to Harry, you are an exception to all rules."

Draco pulled a face, causing Luna to laugh. Draco joined her, chuckling lightly. The twin sounds filled the air, bring a smile to all who heard.

* * *

Passing by outside the shop, a black haired man paused, drinking in the sound. It was one that seemed so familiar and precious to him. He chanced a peek into the window, and stumbled back as he spotted the blond he had earlier had words with. The glorious man had his head tipped back, his face softened and his eyes sparkling. Something tinged inside E.J. at the sight and he quickly turned away. Heart pounding, he resumed his walk, his fingers now toying with the little cream card in his coat pocket.

"Draco Malfoy, huh?" Suddenly, an interview with the two blonds didn't seem like such a horrendous idea after all.


End file.
